


(It Feels Better) Biting Down

by whintersoldiers



Series: It Feels Better [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Build-Up To Smut, Confrontation, F/M, Female Reader, Frustration, Jealousy, Reader-Insert, Teasing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 07:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10329185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whintersoldiers/pseuds/whintersoldiers
Summary: The entire compound knows Bucky is a terrible liar; the entire compound minus you, it seems. Because, you believe him when he says he doesn’t love you back.Will Bucky Barnes get a chance to come clean?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a one part fic, but it ended up being somewhere around 7-8k words, so I split it into two separate pieces! This is the build-up to the smut, because I can't sin without backstory. Lol

“I just don’t see you that way, Y/N— at _all._ I’m sorry.” He said, his eyes sad and dull, and his mouth pulled into a tight line, like he would rather be having any other conversation in the world. He wouldn’t look at you, not directly. His gaze kept flickering from between you, the floor, and the walls. You felt yourself physically deflate, and after your uncontrollable initial reaction, you forced yourself to harden. Bucky tensed as he noticed your actions. Years of HYDRA training had taught him a thing or two.

“Oh…” You said, trying to keep a mask of coolness and composure. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I get it.” Bucky saw right through you. He tried to bring his hand to your face. To cup your face? To lift your chin? Or, perhaps, to stroke your hair? You didn’t know, and although your body thrummed to life at the possibility of his touch, you forced yourself to jerk your head away lightly.

“I’m serious, Buck. I mean, I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but it is what it is, right?” You asked, a small smile on your face as if didn’t hurt to squeeze the words out of your voice box.

As if you hadn’t spent the last year, hopelessly in love with Bucky Barnes.

As if your heart didn’t beat for his every rare smile, corners of his mouth pulled into a boyish grin that squished his cheeks up, and made you see the goddamn constellations in his eyes.

As if you hadn’t heard your heart physically shatter at his swift denial any sort of romantic involvement with you, in response to your (frankly) embarrassingly honest confession of love.

“You have to understand, Y/N, you’re like… my sister,” He elaborated, his voice strained. You nodded, pretending like tears weren’t pricking the backs of your eyeballs.

“You don’t owe me an explanation. It’s okay.”

“Are _you_ okay?”

“Of course. Always.” You said, widening your smile as much as you could, which wasn’t saying much. Bucky’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer. You took a step back. He frowned.

You should’ve just bitten down on your stupid tongue. 

“Really, Bucky, I’m good. Thank you for— for being honest. I’ll see you later, yeah?” You didn’t even wait for his response.

You took off, scurrying away to the safe confines of your room.

* * *

“I hate Fury so fucking much. I really, truly, do.” You said, groaning as you closed the final stitch in your friend’s side. Turned out that even the Black Widow took a few hits during a mission. “In the entirety of the 14 months I’ve worked with you all, I haven’t— not _once_ — gone on a mission with Barnes. And, now, all of a sudden, I’m his partner in crime?!”

“It’s not that deep, Y/N,” Nat said, mimicking what you like to spew every so often. You spared an unamused glance in her direction. “Besides, you said it’s an intel gathering mission; you can get it done in your sleep. And, you know how Fury is: he likes testing different combinations of agents every once in awhile.”

“I know that, but I just don’t understand why the hell he felt the need to branch out and pair me with Barnes _now_ for a mission,”

“Maybe he noticed the fact that you’ve been calling Bucky by his last name for the previous week, and was intrigued by the shift in your narrative with him,” She said, shrugging. You whipped your head towards her, wondering how the hell she knew. “I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I might’ve just gotten back from a mission, but I’m not blind.”

“Wha— What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy. I know something happened on Sunday, because that night when you called me to check up on me— and every night after that— something changed. You didn’t sound like yourself, and you didn’t bring Bucky up _once_. I can only assume you’ve been calling him Barnes since then.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nat,” You breathed out. “Are you sure you don’t have some sort of power that lets your read people’s minds?”

“I have a power that let’s me read people’s bodies. It’s called training. ” She said, rolling her eyes, and crossing her arms. “Don’t try to change the subject. What happened?”

“Honestly, not much. I— I’ll tell you when I get back later tonight.” You said, smiling tightly, and turning around to walk away, packing up your medical supplies.

“ _Y/N,_ ” Nat called firmly, and you sighed and stopped in your tracks. Your turned back to her awaiting figure. “Don’t stall. Why are you calling him Barnes?”

“I’m not!” You said, your voice turning shrill and defensive. She arched a perfectly-plucked eyebrow. You let out a long, exhausted breath. “Fine. You know how much I loved him. I told him how I felt in a stupid, declaration of love… and he… made it very clear _exactly_ what kind of feelings he had for me.” This time both her eyebrows shot up in utter surprise. Regret and utter astoundment filled her face.

“Oh my god, Y/N. I’m so sorry— I thought he’d done something stupid in typical Bucky fashion, and angered you or something. I didn’t think that he had— I’m so—”

“It’s okay, Nat. Yes, my heart is broken. Yes, it hurts to look at him. But, is he is at fault for any of this?” You took a deep breath. “No. Not at all. So, if calling him Barnes helps me differentiate my feelings from… whatever the hell he’s supposed to mean to me now, then that is exactly what I’m gonna do.”

“But, why would he…? I always thought that Bucky harbored the biggest cr—”

“Can I go now?” You interrupted, not wanting to stand here and listen to Nat contemplate what had happened. You had done enough of it yourself.

“Y/N…” Nat called softly, and you shut your eyes and shook your head. You hadn’t meant to snap at her. You were just tired of explaining to everyone in the tower what had happened. They weren’t oblivious— they had quickly picked up on the newly formed tension between you and Bucky. So, that meant going through the event ten times. Having the pain return ten-fold.

“It’s alright, Natalia. I’ll talk to you later tonight.” You said, making it clear the topic was no longer up for discussion. “Will you patch me up?”

“I always do.” She said, smiling softly as she engulfed you in her arms. She didn’t fail to notice the half-hearted manner in which you returned the hug. “Stay safe, Y/N.”

“I always do.” You said, walking back to your room, unaware that Bucky had listened in to the entire conversation from his huddled figure in the kitchen.

* * *

“On your left!” You warned to your partner, ducking as one of the HYDRA soldiers came at your side with a long baton with electric charges surging up it’s length. You effectively dodged the strike with a swift kick to the attacker’s neck, who fell back and allowed the weapon to roll out of his grasp.

You quickly clutched the baton, and nudged the head of it into the center of his abdomen, sending God-knows-how-many volts of electricity into his body. He groaned loudly, once, twice, before he was out like a light.

On the other side of the room, Bucky finally ducked right, causing the man attacking his left to skid to a stop, but by that time, Bucky was already sending his fist flying to his gut. He delivered a few more blows for good measure, and stepped back, breathing heavily.

You assessed the unconscious soldiers in front of you that you had both defeated. There were 20 of them at least, and you couldn’t help the pride from swelling in your chest, even though Bucky had helped you overcome them. You grinned, and placed your hands on your hips, cheeks warm from the exertion.

You were a certified badass.

The thought made you almost giggle with glee, until you heard a foot slide across the floor, taking your balance with you as you fell flat onto your ass.

It turned out, that one of the soldiers of the building had not been fully unconscious. Even though he was heavily beaten, his arms were still fully functional, you noticed. That was because you now had a gun pressed to the skin of your temple, the smell of gunpowder filling your nostrils and permeating your skin follicles. You breathed slowly, not wanting to do anything sudden. You had no idea what Bucky was doing or thinking, because he was frozen behind you.

“Take one step, Winter Soldier, and a bullet goes right through her pretty little head,” The soldier managed to croak out, facing Bucky. “Drop the gun, and slide it over.”

_Oh God, Bucky, don’t fucking do it. Please._

“Don’t do anything stupid— don’t you fucking dare touch her.” Bucky warned, his voice guttural and harsh.

“Then, hand over the gun.”

You heard the rattle of his handgun hitting the floor, and the smooth slide of the weapon gliding over to the man. You cringed in disappointment. The guard grinned sickly, and you wanted to spit in his smug face. How the hell did he— someone practically immobile from the waist down— manage to exert so much power over two highly trained Avengers?

It was your fault. You shouldn’t have started celebrating before the fight was over.

You pressed your fingertips to the knife you kept in the pocket your thigh, and felt for the edge of the blade. It was sharp and threatening, but damn it, so were _you._

Quicker than you had ever moved in your entire life, your motions liquid, you unsheathed the pocket knife, and sliced across the man’s wrist— right across his radial artery. He cried out, and dropped the gun onto the floor. The clatter of the weapon hitting the floor was almost cataclysmic; it shook you to your bones, and made you wince.

Before you could blink, Bucky had snatched up both his machine gun, and the handgun that had dropped from the HYDRA guard’s hand. You scrambled your way to your feet, and placed a rapid kick to his head, this time _really_ making sure he was out for good.

You finally looked up at who Bucky, who was practically seething. At you.

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you?” He growled, stepping into the personal space between your bodies that, after last Sunday, was no longer reserved for him. “Why would you attack him with the knife?” You squared your shoulders, and looked up at him indignantly.

“Excuse me?!” You cried. “I had it handled.”

“Oh, did you now?” He asked, disbelief written across his features. “From where I was standing, it looked like a bullet was about to splatter your brains across the fucking cement.”

“Congrats, Barnes. You’ve been blessed with 20/20 vision,” You deadpanned, crossing your arms. Bucky’s face contorted impossibly further.

“This isn’t a joke, Y/N! That little stunt with the knife was foolish, and reckless. You’re supposed to depend on me in a situation like this, that’s why I’m here!” He roared. “You are aware that a bullet travels entire _yards_ in seconds, and your forehead was about, hmm, an _inch_ from the barrel, right?”

“Good thing I’m fast,” You sniffed, stepping away.

“You’re unbelievable! Do you seriously not see what you did was stupid?!”

“I don’t need a lecture right now. Especially not from you, _Sergeant._ ” You muttered, yanking the handgun from Bucky’s grasp. He narrowed his stormy eyes at you.

“Is that what this is about?” He asked, tipping his head down. “You’re still caught up over what I said _that_ night?”

“If you think that’s what this is about, then you’ve got another thing coming.” You said, your voice low and threatening. The furrow between his eyebrows dissolved, and his eyes widened slightly. “We’re not talking about this— not now, not _ever,_ you hear me? Now, do you have the flash drive?” You asked, making sure Bucky hadn’t lost the one thing you both had risked your lives for on this mission. He patted his pocket, and nodded, his face suddenly looking like a toddler that had been scolded. You nodded grimly, and walked further away from his presence.

You two began to make your way to an exit, looking for windows or a door that would provide salvation in this time of despair. The hallways in the HYDRA headquarters were dark and narrow, and each sound echoed loudly off the concrete walls.

Bucky picked up on the footsteps of approaching guards before you did, quickly gripping your waist, and pulling your figure into a room and quietly shutting the door closed. He pressed you into the wall next to the door, and clamped his flesh hand over your mouth, his metal hand still squeezing your hip. You eyes were widened in surprise and indifference.

You knew it was a horrible, terrible— the absolute _worst_ — time to be thinking this, but after being infatuated with the man for a year, you couldn’t really blame yourself when your thoughts wandered to the way his body was smothered over yours. A knee between your legs, brawny chest mashed against yours, and his heavy breaths hitting your face with every exhale.

You were helplessly and _infuriatingly_ turned on.

You bit down lightly on his hand for good measure— you couldn’t seem too eager to submit, to be here complying to him. He quickly shook it away, furrowing his brows in annoyance. You quickly realized you had made a rather hasty decision, because his hand joined the metal one on the other side of your waist.

And, _god_ , the two contrasting temperatures of his hand on either side of you had your spine tingling with utter _want._

“Sush,” Bucky instructed quietly into your ear, not moving his lips away from your ear when he was finished speaking. You could hear him panting in your ear from the adrenaline, and, it did _things_ to you. It really did. His face was practically buried in your neck, you realized woefully. His muscular thigh between your legs made it impossible for you to clench your legs shut.

 _Now is not the time, Y/N!_ You scolded yourself, squeezing your eyes closed in frustration.

He _had_ to feel the way the way your heartbeat thundered when his lips accidentally skimmed your neck. He had to know your body responded to him. For him.

 _Only_ him.

“Bucky,” You tried to warn him to get off of you, but it came out more like a whimper. You felt his cheeks slide into a smile— or maybe one of those cocky smirks he liked to wear all too often— and he had the audacity to chuckle quietly into your neck. His teeth grazed the tender, sweat-salted skin of your neck, and your body jackhammered off the wall and arched into his torso. His hand slid around your waist, and to the small of your back.

“What is it, dollface?”

The name snapped you back to reality. He hadn’t called you that since last Sunday.

What were you doing? Bucky didn’t like you— at all. You refused to stand here and let him use your body to stroke his own ego.

“Get the _fuck_ off of me.” You glowered as you shoved him, causing him to stagger back— more from the surprise rather than the force itself. God knows you couldn’t move all that muscle even if you wanted to. “The guards are gone.”

You watched smugly as he composed himself, smoothing back his hair, and adjusting his clothes and gun. You scoffed, and shoved the door open as you started making your through the hallway. You barely had the opportunity to walk two steps away, before Bucky was grabbing you by the wrist. He turned you to him, a hand settling firmly onto your ribcage as he frantically looked into your eyes.

“What the hell was that?” He asks, like he hadn’t been the one mauling your neck.

“I don’t know, you tell me… _bro,_ ” You hissed. His grip loosened in surprise, and you took that as the opportunity to start storming down the hallway. The quinjet would be here soon.

* * *

 _So pretty but so goddamn boring,_ You thought to yourself. You chewed non-committally on a breadstick, as your date, Matt, went on his seventh long-winded speech about a mission that he’d recently succeeded in completing.

He was lucky was cute, with two rows of blinding pearly whites and pale skin that complimented his dark eyes. It wasn’t that he was self-absorbed— not necessarily. He smiled politely and laughed at your jokes, but somehow whenever he spoke, the topic somehow always seemed to return to him.

Normally, your taste would be better in men. But, you’d been a little too drunk off of Bucky’s flickering gaze as he pretended not to eavesdrop on the conversation you’d been holding with Matt a few days ago. You had been in the compound’s common room with a few other agents, and Matt had approached you and asked you to dinner. Bucky’s face was buried in a dilapidated heap of paper some would argue was a book, and you were going to say _‘No,’_ when you realized Bucky wasn’t reading the book at all. He hadn’t flipped the page in the last 5 minutes, and his eyes weren’t even scanning the page he was supposed to have been reading.

For an assassin, Bucky was a _horror_ at attempting to be nonchalant.  

“I’d love that, Matt!” You had replied, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

 _See?_ You wanted to say to Bucky. _I’m fan-fucking-tastic. I can be desired, too._

You would’ve had the decency to feel guilty for using Matt to prove a point, considering the fact that you were still recuperating from a heartbreak and it wasn’t fair to mess with someone’s feelings in that way, but Matt wasn’t the kind of person who took the same girl on two dates. His lingering touch on your shoulder, that traveled down to your elbow once— then twice— when you said ‘yes,’ confirmed that fact.

Besides, the look Bucky had given you when you were leaving the house earlier in the night, was almost enough to get you through the rest of this date. The [DRESS](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.ikrush.com%2Fproduct%2FAngeline-Asymmetric-Dress-12281-269-0-0.html&t=OTZlYjgzYWE2YjkzM2Y4MGUyYmI4MjAzMjQzYWQ3ZGU1Y2JiMWQ2OCxXblRSV29pYg%3D%3D&b=t%3ApCA0l4XkydLrEVNrZmLCag&p=http%3A%2F%2Fwhintersoldiers.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F152781659701%2Fit-feels-better-biting-down&m=1) itself was simple in it’s design; a baby-pink, silken asymmetrical number that fell to your knees. It wasn’t even figure-hugging, but no one could deny the sensuality the dress exuded. Maybe it was a deep plunge at the neckline, or the pretty folds along the satin bow that rested at your hip. 

It was one of those outfits that seemed to be designed to only fit flawless models on Instagram, which is why you were skeptical as you had placed the order online. However, you discovered that your money was well spent because the glossy material turned out to fit your figure like a glove. This did not go unnoticed by Bucky, who had been watching some Russian reality show with Nat when you had emerged from your room, fixated on placing your earrings properly.

“Holy shit,” You heard him mutter under his breath, as Nat whistled from where she was perched on the couch.

“You’re gonna give Matt a heart attack,” Nat commented, watching you bend down to strap on the shoes you’d be sporting for the evening. You didn’t have to look at Bucky to know his gaze was still raking over you. You let your line of sight flit back to him, and even though it was only for a millisecond, the intensity of it all had you steadying yourself against the banister of the stairway. Suddenly, you understood why the blue portion of a flame was considered the hottest. The weight of his stare was utterly scorching.

“Good,” You said. “Maybe it’ll keep him on his toes,”

“Doesn’t she look great, Buck?” Nat asked, watching him clench his jaw. You shot her a warning glance, and her face slid into a sly grin. Bucky gave a non-committal grunt.

“Right,” You sighed, not having expected anything more— verbally, at least— from him, rolling your eyes and moving to grab your purse. “Thanks for that elaborate sentiment, Barnes.” Your tone must have come out a lot harsher than expected, because his eyes had widened in fear, clearly worried that he had offended you. You couldn’t even muster up the energy to tell him to relax, that you weren’t vexed, opting to give Nat a small wave before locking the door behind you as you had left.

Now sitting in the dimly lit restaurant, and watching Matt stare ‘discreetly’ at your chest, and listening to the story of his valiance in saving 14 people for the umpteenth time, you were starting to regret your decision. You took another sip of your drink, and tried not to be rude as you checked the time on your phone.

Another half hour passed before the waitress decided to come around with the check, which Matt was kind enough to pay. He gave you a lecherous smile as he paid the bill, and you cringed internally. His face made it very clear that he expected a different type of payment from you in return. You couldn’t blame him really, because after all, you knew what he had been chasing since hour one.

Luckily, you were able to scramble together a barely palpable excuse as to why you wouldn’t be returning to his apartment with him. You thanked whatever God existed, (and Tony) for not housing the new recruits— which included Matt— at the compound. The taxi dropped you off first, and as you exited the parked taxi, you could’ve sworn you saw a curtain sway with the presence of a person at the main window.

You felt a gentle tug at your wrist.

“What, no goodnight kiss?” Your date asked, flashing you a thousand-megawatt smile that must have gotten him laid many a time before. You would’ve balked, but the simple possibility of the person watching at the curtain being Bucky made you reconsider.

“Yeah, alright,” You said, taking your time swinging your bag over your shoulder, adjusting your dress and your hair, before starting to lean back into the taxi.

Just a quick peck.

Your lips were about to meet Matt’s when you heard a throat clearing. At first, you thought it was the taxi driver, but as you processed the sound, you realized it had emanated from outside the car. You slid back out, gasping softly when you noticed who it was. 

He had on a soft white v-neck that clung to all the right places, and a pair of grey sweats that were nothing short of a blessing. But the most prominent part of Bucky's wardrobe were his lack of shoes. He was breathing somewhat heavily, and you could tell he had ran down the flights of stairs to reach you.

“Come on, Y/N, you should be getting inside. It’s late.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd... all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Original creation date: November 2016
> 
> Again, catching up all my fics to this website. Stay on the lookout for the next part! <3


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